Nicest Thing
by garyprestons
Summary: She hopes things won't be weird between them the morning after.


When Miranda woke up Saturday morning, she sat bolt upright in bed, the sheet clutched to her chest. Had it all been a dream? A wonderfully naughty, extremely vivid dream? She looked over next to her to find it was empty. If it had in fact happened - and a quick peek under the covers at her own nakedness confirmed that it most likely had - then where in the world had he vanished to?

Exhausted and reluctant to get out of bed, she flopped back down on her side, wincing as she heard a loud clapping sound and hugged the other pillow to her chest to try and muffle it.

It smelled like him.

Her heart beat a little faster; she squeezed the pillow a bit tighter, eyes closed as she remembered exactly what had happened the night before. Gary had told her he was in love with her, finally. After years and years of dancing around the subject (and in her case, around him, to various soundtracks) they had finally admitted their feelings. Oh, she remembered how incredible it felt to finally kiss him, a proper snog, hands everywhere and intense, fiery passion...

She was still lost in her daydream when she realized she had yet to solve the mystery of where Gary had vanished to the morning after. He wouldn't have just left her there. She carefully climbed out of bed, sore muscles protesting, and pulled on her robe before surveying the evidence strewn on the floor. Clothes. Lots of clothes, and she recognized his favourite blue shirt among them. The same shirt she'd been close to ripping off of him the night before in the heat of the moment.

A clattering in the kitchen caught her attention.

Miranda carefully made her way through the mess to the closed bedroom door. She slowly opened it and peeked out.

Gary was cooking in her kitchen. And even though he wasn't wearing his chef's whites that made her knees weak, this was even better. He was dressed in only his boxer shorts and undershirt, and he looked positively gorgeous with his hair a mess from the night before.

"Am I dead?" she said aloud. "No, seriously, are you actually in my kitchen cooking breakfast on a Saturday?"

Hearing her voice, he set down the whisk he was using and turned to her; Miranda went a little wobbly when she got a good look at him.

"You're up!" he said happily, leaning in to kiss her. She leaned in to it for a moment before realizing she hadn't even brushed her teeth yet, but if he noticed her breath he didn't seem to care. He tasted like coffee. She blushed and pulled away, eyes flicking down to the plates of food on the counter. "Sorry, I just thought I'd make breakfast. I wasn't sure if you were up; I was just going to hope the smell of food would wake you," Gary teased her. Miranda continued to gape at him, speechless.

A half-dressed (yes, it was absolutely still exciting even though she'd seen him wearing much less the night before, thank you) Gary had made her breakfast. Was this really how the rest of her life was going to be? She felt like she was going to weep with joy for a moment, but the smell of breakfast was calling to her.

"I had to snoop around in your kitchen for a bit; you need to go grocery shopping." He took both her hands and pulled her towards him. She was still so gobsmacked she couldn't really do anything but let him.

"Miranda? Are you okay? You haven't said anything yet, not even about breakfast." His arms slid around her waist and suddenly she was having very enjoyable memories and she shook her head a bit to clear it.

"Sorry. Still just a tiny bit in shock from the last 12 hours," she apologized, and his grin widened.

"I take it breakfast will help?"

Miranda nodded enthusiastically. "It absolutely will."

Gary beamed; it was so cute how excited he got when he was in his element. "Well, like I said, I had to make do with what you had. So I did an omelette, toast, fruit salad, and there's tea. And if you're still hungry, I can always pop next door to the restaurant and make us brunch."

Miranda rolled her eyes for a moment. "Honestly, still don't see the point of brunch."

"I know, I know." He gave her another quick squeeze before going to check on the kettle.

As amazing as the night before had been, the morning after was proving to be just as exciting. As they moved around the kitchen together, pulling plates down from the cupboards and arranging the cutlery, Miranda realized how domestic this all felt. Was it possible this was a glimpse into their future? No, she couldn't let herself get carried away. But what if?

As she laid down a plate on the table, suddenly she felt strong arms slip around her waist from behind, and she let herself relax back against him, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt his warm, solid chest pressed against her back.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist." Gary apologized, hugging her to him. Miranda felt the flush on her cheeks and down to her chest.

"Don't be. This is nice," she said with a smile, trying to sound mature and grown-up even though her heart was racing just because his arms were around her. If this was going to work long-term, maybe she'd need to have her heart examined. She could just ring up Dr. Gail and schedule an appointment...

Gary's lips brushed against her neck, and she decided to risk it.

The next thing she knew, they were snogging in the middle of her kitchen, her hands fisting in his shirt and his reaching for the tie of her robe-

And then the kettle whistled and they leaped apart in surprise.

"Sorry. Kettle," Gary finally mumbled, grinning sheepishly as he went to go pour her a cup of tea.

Breakfast was delicious, of course. Everything Gary cooked was always wonderful, and it really was adorable how happy he looked when she told him so. And it had always been so easy to talk to him, that even following their first night together, they spent breakfast talking about the usual subjects: Tilly's new boyfriend, Stevie's newest plans to catapult the shop to international fame, and Penny's latest interference.

"Well, you know, at least she'll be able to give you a bit of a break now," Gary pointed out.

"Yeah? You think?" Miranda asked, reaching for another piece of toast and slathering a small mountain of jam on it.

"Well, yeah. Isn't her neverending quest to find you a boyfriend?"

Miranda's heart did that fluttering nonsense again.

"That is an excellent point," she stammered after a moment. "Really, though, it's not the easiest job. Are you sure you're up to it?"

He took her hand across the table, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles for a moment.

"More than up for it."

She was out of her chair in a flash, kissing him passionately, never happier.

And this time, well, they were both grateful the kettle didn't interrupt.


End file.
